The Save File is OK
by EclecticLion
Summary: Ever wonder what's really going on inside that game of yours? What happens when you're not playing it? What happens when you overwrite it? "They're all the same. They never change. The people never change. I'll never change."
1. Game Play

It's a lazy summer day in a quaint little neighborhood. A young boy is sprawled out on his bed, training and battling his pokémon like any normal child does.

"Yes! It's super effective!" He shouts triumphantly.

His mother calls from downstairs. "It's time for dinner!"

"Okay, I'll be right down!" he calls back. "Right after I beat this guy," he adds under his breath. With the hit of a button, the other foe's pokémon is knocked out cleanly. The battle scene switches to regular game-play and the boy quickly brings up the menu, scrolling through the options.

"Aaaaaaaand save," he says conclusively. A pleasant tone rings through the speakers, confirming the save, and he shuts off the game system.

His mother calls his name again.

"Okay, I'm coming!"

He sets his game onto his nightstand and heads for the door.

It shuts behind him with a soft click.

* * *

The pokémon that is a part of my party stands at the ready, waiting for the command from above. It never listens to me, just to the commands.

I'm watching the battle, but I'm not a part of the scene at the moment. I don't know where I am. I never really thought about it before. I'm just here.

It's during these times that I just want to walk.

Just walk.

I don't care where I go. I just want to move.

The music changes and I bring my attention back to the scene.

Looks like they won. Well I guess it's time then.

Everything goes black.

When color comes back to the world, I'm standing in a field in front of a trainer. He says the same thing the others say. I've stopped listening after I realized they're not really talking to me.

It seems so real though.

When they talk.

But every time they do, a box appears above their head containing each word they say. They don't say anything else. Whatever is in the box is what they'll say.

No more, no less.

Sometimes, if I ignore the box, I can almost pretend they're really talking to me.

To the real me.

Not the programmed me that they're supposed to talk to. The me that wants to talk back, that wants to have a conversation, that wants to move.

The me that wants to do something different.

But that will never happen.

Hasn't happened.

Not for however long I've been forced to walk through the same routes, towns, caves.

They're all the same.

They never change.

The people never change.

I'll never change.

Above my head, I can sense another box popping up. I can't move to confirm but, I've gotten a knack for sensing when this one appears.

I don't know what is going to be selected but, considering a battle was just won, I expect what usually happens after that.

The world freezes around me and my suspicions are confirmed. Everything that was moving before has stopped. A trainer I could see just ahead, who was walking in circles just a moment a go, has stopped dead in their tracks. The trainer I had just battled doesn't change though. He's always silent and still. He only talks if I'm commanded to interact with him.

The world unfreezes after what feels like forever and I continue staring ahead.

I prepare myself mentally for what almost always comes after moments like these.

Fixing my eyes straight ahead, I try to stay calm as I try not to think about what's coming. The darkness. The darkness where I can't think.

I hate that darkness.


	2. Change of Players

"What are you doing?" a nosy little girl asks.

"Playing a game," the young boy answers begrudgingly. He sits on his living room couch while the little girl peeks over the back of it, her round face barely poking over the top.

The save proves successful and the boy continues to guide the little character.

The girl stands on the tips of her toes, trying to see the screen. She decides this isn't the best position for peeking and moves around the couch to sit next to her brother. She watches as the little person on the screen moves around.

"What game?"

"None of your business."

"Please?"

"Please, what?"

"Can I play?"

"No."

"Why not?"

The young boy throws his head back against the couch and groans. The little girl keeps her face on the screen, paying no mind to the noise her brother made. He usually does that whenever she's near him.

She has no idea why.

"What's that?" she asks pressing her finger to the screen. The boy yanks the device away and shifts over on the couch a bit.

"Don't touch! You'll smudge it all up."

She stares at him and slowly brings back her still extended finger. She turns her head to stare at the floor, holding her finger close to her small chest as if it was hurt. But it wasn't her finger that was hurt.

Her eyes glisten as tears begin to well up in her eyes. The young boy is still playing his game and looks over when he hears her sniffle.

He sighs and scoots back over to his sister.

"I'm sorry. Do you still wanna play?"

She slowly nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Here," he says holding out the game.

She reaches for it and holds the too-large device in her too-small hands. She looks at it with her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Okay, now press these buttons to move," he explains, pressing the correct buttons. "And you use this button to talk to people and stuff.

The little girl presses the moving buttons, walking the little person into a line of trees. The young boy laughs at this.

"No, go this way," he points out with a chuckle.

She presses the opposite button and the person walks the other way, right into another line of trees.

This earns another laugh from her brother and she giggles along with him.

"This is fun," she says happily, now walking around in circles.

"Try using the other button to read that sign." He points out a square sign board up ahead on the screen. The little girl tries to move the person to the sign, but walks right past it instead. She turns around and walks into the back of the sign.

"Ok! Now press that button!" her brother exclaims excitedly.

"Kay!" She presses the button but nothing appears on the screen. Her brother stands up suddenly and holds up his arms like she had made a touchdown.

"Scooooooooore!" He cheers. The little girl laughs and sets down the game to mimic her brother.

"Scooooore!" she yells at the top of her tiny lungs.

"Kids?" their mother calls from the front hall.

"Yeah?" the young boy responds while the little girl hops around the living room still cheering.

"Come on, we're going to be late! Let's go!"

The front door creaks open and the boy turns to his sister.

"Ready for the last part?"

"Yeahyeahyeah!" she chants hopping up and down. Her brother grabs the game from the couch and hands to her. She stops hopping and holds it in her hands once more.

"Okay, see this?" The boy points to the off switch and the girl nods enthusiastically. He reaches for the switch and turns it off. The girl stares at the screen that has gone black, the little person gone.

The young boy takes it from her grasp and holds the device high above his head.

"We did it!" he proclaims before firmly setting the device on the couch.

"Yeah! We did it!" the girl cheers.

The boy pumps his fist in the air and heads for the door, his sister close behind him.

The device rests on the couch as the door shuts and an engine revs outside.

* * *

Everything unfreezes and everyone goes about their programmed business.

I clear my mind, preparing myself for the darkness.

When I start to walk forward I can't help but heave a mental sigh.

I love the rare moments when a freeze isn't followed by a darkness. I know it will come eventually but, I was good for now at least.

I try to push that thought away as I'm guided into yet another town.

It's a new town but it isn't any different. I walk along in the streets, passing people who take a few steps every now and then, their eyes trained ahead.

Always staring ahead.

They never glance at me or even look the other way. They're always staring ahead.

I sigh mentally as I'm lead onto a route just outside of the town.

Rows of trees are lined on either side of me as I walk along.

The trees all look alike and they don't move. They just stand there in perfect formation, never changing.

Just like everything else.

That's why I prefer walking on beach routes. It may be repetitive, but at least the water moves.

Then again, there isn't anything _to_ move the trees. It's always still in the air.

But it isn't quiet.

No, it's never quiet.

A constant upbeat music plays from who-knows-where, changing whenever I enter a new town or new route. It's been here ever since I can remember.

Since I was first guided from my starting point, it's always been there.

I always wonder how it can sound so upbeat when I feel so alone. I used to think maybe that it was there just for me. To cheer me up.

I used to think that.

Now, it's just become another thing that doesn't change. No matter how cheerful it sounds, it can never change the fact that I'm alone.

I stop moving and stare ahead. I can't sense a box popping up though.

This happens occasionally.

The guider stops guiding me for a few moments. Then, before long, I'm back on my merry way. I stand staring ahead and mentally yawn.

Then I turn unexpectedly to the side.

And walk forward.

Straight for the trees.

I don't have time to wonder what's going on before I walk right into an invisible force that prevents me from actually touching the trees. A baritone note rings out over the music repeatedly, signaling I can't walk any farther.

What is the guider doing? Sure, sometimes I was guided into a tree or wall once or twice, but this is going on far too long.

Suddenly, I turn around and head in the opposite direction.

Right for another set of trees.

What is going on here?

Again, the note blares out as I walk in place into the invisible force.

Then I stop and turn to walk along the trees. I turn and head back the other way then repeat.

Am I really being guided in circles?

After a moment I stop and turn back to the path. Good, let's stop this nonsense, can we?

My hopes of actually being guided correctly are short-lived as I turn this way and that, eventually heading for a sign-board.

Okay, so, the sign?

Nope. Walked right by it.

Wait, no. I'm facing the back of it now. Doesn't the guider know that the back of signs can't be interacted with?

Apparently not.

I feel a pulse flow throughout my body, like a pressure that runs from my head to my toes in a split-second, as the guider attempts to interact with the back of the sign.

Then I stop moving.

The music plays in the background as I wonder what the heck just happened.

I wait a long while for the guider to do something.

Anything.

You can't just guide someone haphazardly around a route and just leave them there. I have to make sure the guider is still capable of maneuvering me throughout the rest of this programmed journey.

I feel a quick pulse, a chilling sensation, and my heart sinks.

I can't get a freeze first to prepare myself?


	3. Rival Battle

"Ha! Back again? Don't you learn?" the boy says to himself as that rarely heard music plays through the tiny speakers. He adjusts his position on his bed and settles down for battle.

"Get yourself prepared to be beaten," he whispers trying, but failing, to be intimidating. "Again!"

He skims through the reading and the transition from game-play to battle scene begins.

"Today isn't your day. I just evolved my starter!"

The battle comes up and the boy selects his move.

* * *

He talks and I try to ignore the box above his head.

It's going good so far. He's talking to me.

This isn't the first time I've seen this person. No, I've seen him before in other places.

Whenever I do see him it usually ends up with a battle just like most everyone else I'm guided to interact with.

He's a bit different from the others though.

Sure, some new music plays when he appears, but there is something else.

I don't know why, but he's different from the other trainers.

He talks to me like we've known each other for a long time. From what he says I take it he doesn't like me much but, considering it's all programmed, I try not to take it personally and I even try to play along sometimes.

The next box appears but I try my hardest to ignore it.

He's talking to me.

He wants to talk.

It's not programmed conversation because he wants to talk.

And I can talk back.

There's a pause in his speech and I blurt in my mind the first thing that comes.

Don't act so tough! I'll defeat you before you can blink!

For a second, I can imagine him responding back. Poking fun at me about memories where he's beaten me before.

But he doesn't.

He can't hear me.

The color disappears and my mind-set goes with it.

The scene has changed and he stands far off in the same pose as the other times we've battled. I stand in my own programmed pose, the only time my body is in a different position. A pokémon appears in front of him as he slides off into the black.

It borders us all around in a square and I soon do the same as the pokémon that's from my party appears in my place.

The pokémon take their turns attacking and I lazily watch the boxes appear and disappear, the green dwindling with each turn.

I was close this time.


	4. Pokemon Center

It's a Sunday morning in the quaint house in the quaint neighborhood. The television displays the morning cartoons as the smell of breakfast still lingers in the surrounding rooms of the kitchen.

The young boy lies with his stomach on the living room floor, paying no attention to the show that is on. His little sister sits on the couch, watching and laughing along with her favorite show.

"Time to heal you guys," the boy says, referring to the game in his hands. With the pushing of some buttons he maneuvers the character into a red building.

He hums along with the familiar computerized tune, the music engraved into his memory.

"Yes," he says selecting an option.

The pink-haired lady takes his pokémon and he bobs his head along with the short tune that goes along with the process of healing.

"Thank you very much, miss. It's been quite the pleasure," he says with an air of English formality.

"Who are you talking to?" his sister suddenly asks.

His cheeks flare pink and he quickly glances behind him at the girl, embarrassed that he hadn't realized he was actually talking out loud.

"No one."

He clears his throat and his sister smiles before turning her attention back to the television.

* * *

As often as I come here it still makes my skin crawl.

It's the nice types that really get to me.

The music just makes it worse.

Her expression is blank as I approach the pink-haired woman. I stand on the other side of the counter and I feel that familiar pressure pulse. As soon as I do her eyes light up and she smiles down at me.

She asks politely if I'd like to heal my pokémon and I stare at her, unresponsive as usual.

I can just see the box above her head, displaying everything she's saying, with another box that contains two options.

One is chosen and she turns around to the machine behind her. The little capsules appear at a steady beat and a cheerful tone announces it's done. She turns back around, the capsules having disappeared, and smiles warmly.

She says her good-byes and welcomes me to come back whenever I need to.

I wish I could look away.

The box disappears.

Her smile is immediately wiped from her face and she stares blankly ahead like all of the others, all evidence that she had just been smiling and talking cheerfully just moments ago are gone.

I turn away and walk to the door.


	5. Evolution

The tune that the young boy has been waiting to hear all day is finally playing. He bolts up from his perch on the front steps and opens the door behind him, poking his head inside.

"Sis, come here, hurry! She's evolving!"

The rapid patter of tiny socked feet on carpet is heard as his sister runs from the living room to the front door.

"She's evolving!" her brother repeats showing her the device.

The screen shows a small pokémon's white silhouette flickering from its current form to another. The little girl's eyes widen in wonder.

When her brother had first caught the pokémon he showed his sister, knowing well that she would immediately love it. She took one look and smiled proclaiming it was 'sooooo cute!' He even allowed her to name it and she obviously chose the sweetest and fluffiest name that could fit in the naming space.

The young boy told her he would tell her when the pokémon would evolve and she had nodded enthusiastically. She had no idea what it meant but, her brother sure liked the idea of it.

She stares at the outline of her favorite pokémon and quickly looks at her brother.

"What's gonna happen?"

"Just watch," her brother hushes, brimming with excitement. She turns her attention back to the screen and clutches her fists in anticipation.

The silhouette flickers rapidly until it stops in a spray of sparkles and a tune plays as if saying 'ta-da! Here's your new pokémon!'

The pokémon's new sprite is shown and a message displays, congratulating the player on the evolution.

The boy smiles widely at the little girl expectantly, waiting for her reaction. She just looks confused though, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips slightly pouted.

"What happened to her?"

"What?" The boy laughs and shakes the device slightly for emphasis. "She evolved! Isn't that cool?"

She remains silent and shakes her head slightly, utterly and completely confused.

"Where'd she go?"

"What do you mean? She just evolved," the boy explains, his smile fading from his face. He had already told her the pokémon would evolve eventually. "She didn't go anywhere. She's right here," he says holding the device closer to the girl.

"She looks different."

"That's what happens when a pokémon evolves. It looks different."

The girl shakes her head again. "I don't like it."

"What? But it's—"

"No! Don't like it," she pouts.

Her brother lets out a disbelieving chuckle and shakes his head with a smile.

"She's still the same! She has the same name, same moves, same personality…" The young boy counts these off on his fingers and the girl watches them with her face scrunched up in annoyance. "She just looks different, that's all."

"I liked how she looked before," she murmurs, crossing her arms. The boy pauses for a moment before deciding to try another angle.

"Well, before, she wasn't as strong as she is now. And she can learn a bunch of different things now that she's evolved. Things she couldn't before."

She turns her head away and the boy smiles with a quirked eyebrow.

"You know, you evolved too."

At this, the girl turns back to look at her brother, hr face full of confusion again.

"I did?"

"Yep! When you were a baby, you didn't know how to talk or walk like you do now. You _evolved_ and learned how to do those things! You got stronger, too!"

"I did?" she asks again, her eyes widening in wonder just like before.

Her brother laughs. "Sure you did! See, hit my arm," he says offering his arm to her. She looks at it than up at his face and he smiles encouragingly.

Reluctantly, she balls up her fist and punches her brother in the arm. The little fists of a little girl can't do much damage to the older arm of an older brothers but, nonetheless, he jumps and yelps causing his sister to step back in alarm.

He rubs his arm and laughs. "See? You got stronger!"

She looks down and examines her hands with eyes full of wonder. Slowly, a proud smile spreads across her face and her brother leans in with a hand cupped over his mouth.

"Just don't go around punching people, okay? They'll just be jealous that you evolved so quickly," he whispers with a wink. The little girl beams with pride and the young boy holds the device out to her.

"Wanna see?"

"Yeah!"

She takes the device and her brother motions for her to go to the living room as he shuts the front door behind him.

* * *

I watch from the blackness as the foe's last pokémon is knocked out of battle. The trainer says his programmed lines and I let out an exasperated sigh in my head.

No use.

A new idea occurred to me recently and I'd been trying it out the last few battles. The way I see it is that the time I should have the highest chance of moving is during battle scenes. Maybe the guider needs me to be in my body to guide me and this is basically the only time I'm not in my body.

Well, at least, I don't think I'm in my body. It's hard to tell if I am or not since I can't move but, it makes it easier on me if I assume I'm not.

It isn't going good so far though.

Actually, it's going quite not-as-I-had-originally-planned.

I've lost count of how many times I've tried already but, I think it's safe to say I can't move no matter where I am.

I sigh as the battle scene is enveloped in blackness.

There's always next time.

I guess.

I expect to appear back on the route where I first interacted with the trainer but, another scene appears instead.

It only has one pokémon at the center so it can't be a battle. Soon after, a box appears displaying some words I don't care to read.

Oh, wait. I remember this.

It doesn't happen often but, this is one of those changes of a pokémon. It makes no difference to me whether they stay the same or not.

It rarely happens , though, so I assume it's sort of special.

I don't see how though.

The pokémon is filled with a white light and I watch as the silhouette slowly starts to flicker with a bigger one.

I groan as loud as my thoughts will allow.

I'm feeling extra irritable at the moment, considering the guider has been guiding me all around the place for battle after battle, with trainers, in the grass, and on water alike.

And my great idea turned out to be a train wreck.

And it's not that it matters what I think and it's not like I don't think this any other time but, I can honestly say I'd rather be anywhere else but here right now.

I wouldn't go so far to say I wouldn't mind the darkness though.

But it's getting there.

I watch the silhouettes as they start to flicker rapidly and I groan yet again.

This is taking too long.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the pokémon bursts happy little sparkles and is a happy little new pokémon.

Hooray.


	6. Start Game

Snow falls from the early morning sky as a tree shines brightly within the warm confines of a living room. Boxes of neatly wrapped presents are laid out underneath the tree, waiting for their new owners to awaken.

Just then, two siblings run as fast down the stairs as their short legs will allow them. Following behind them are two adults who appear groggy but have smiles on their faces nonetheless.

"Presents!" squeals the little girl. She collapses in front of a few boxes and searches frantically for any that have her name on it.

The young boy isn't far behind and he fast-walks around the tree, pushing out any presents that are marked as his. When he has them all collected he sits down and starts to unwrap. His little sister is already on her third one as he pulls the paper off of his first.

They unwrap present after present, squeals of delight from the girl and beams of happiness from the boy.

The little girl is done unwrapping first and runs over to her father to show her a doll she had received. "Look, daddy! Isn't she pretty?" she gushes as she strokes the doll's hair.

"Of course she is," he agrees with a smile. He grabs her around the waist and lifts her into his lap before saying, "But not as pretty as my little girl!" He tickles her sides and she squirms this way and that, giggling all the while.

There's one last present and it rests in the young boy's hands.

It wasn't in the other boxes, so this must be it. Or, at least, he hoped it was. His mother watches him with a knowing smile.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

"Yeah," he answers wistfully. He scratches off a piece of tape and slides a finger beneath the paper. With a deep breath he rips off the wrapping until there lays a box in his hands.

He can barely contain his joy.

"Yes! I got one! I got one!" He holds the game device's container high above his head as he dances around. He's gained the attention of his sister and she hops off of her father's lap to join her brother in his dance.

The parents smile as the watch their kids dance around the living room, stepping on the wrapping that was everywhere.

"Okay, okay," their mother announces with a clap of her hands. "Let's get this cleaned up so you can play with all of your presents, okay?"

The two nod with wide smiles, happy to clean up for once.

When the last shred of paper is thrown out, the young boy approaches his parents clutching the box to his chest.

"Can I go play with it now?"

"Everything's seems to be cleaned up. Go on ahead," his father says ruffling his son's hair.

"We'll call you down when breakfast is done, okay?" his mother adds.

"Okay!" he calls back, taking the stairs two at a time.

He bursts into his room and into his closet. In the very back he gropes around for a small cardboard box that holds his most prized possessions.

His hand finally finds it and he takes it out. Opening the box, he pushes aside a stick that looks like a dragon, some stamps from letters that were addressed to him, a picture of a woman posing weird, and a bunch of other great stuff to reveal the greatest thing of all; a small cartridge that he had bought weeks ago. He'd saved up his allowance for months to buy it.

Now he can finally play it.

He opens the present he got and holds it carefully in his hands as he inserts the cartridge.

He's overwhelmed with excitement as he holds his finger to the power switch. He flicks it on and the screen comes to life.

The sequence he had been waiting so long to watch plays in front of his eyes.

He's the happiest kid in the world.

* * *

There's color.

There's music.

What is this place?

I'm standing in a small room with a bed and other belongings. They don't belong to me though. I don't remember them.

I don't remember anything.

What am I supposed to do?

Before I can debate whether to move or not, my legs move by them themselves. I'm not moving them though.

Why can't I move?

It's seems ironic I'm thinking of the question since I'm moving but, I'm not the one doing it.

Something is moving my legs for me.

I'm guided toward a set of stairs that descends into darkness.

Where does it lead?

Right as I step onto the set of stairs the world goes black.

Before I can wonder what's going on, the color comes back and I'm in a different room. A woman stands not far off and a wave of relief washes over me.

Finally, someone to explain.

I want to move over to her to talk to her and my legs oblige this time.

So I can control my body.

That little fact brings another wave of relief as I approach the woman.

I step next to her as she stares off into space. I want to tap her shoulder to ask her the questions that are buzzing around in my head but, this time, my arms don't listen to me.

My heart falls as I realize that whatever is guiding my legs just had similar intentions as me when I walked up to the woman.

So I still can't move.

A pulse, a kind of pressure, jolts through me and the woman turns to me suddenly. My first reaction is to step back but I can't.

She smiles warmly.

She's smiling at me.

She talks with a kind and gentle voice.

She's talking to me.

I'm overwhelmed with excitement and the rest of her words don't reach me. I'm too excited.

I'm too relieved.

There's someone here who can explain everything to me.

Everything's going to be okay.

I open my mouth to talk but it doesn't budge.

She goes on talking; smiling all the while.

I start to panic.

Doesn't she care that I'm not talking back? I stare blankly at her as she talks and that's when I notice something above her head.

It looks like a box.

With words?

The words move along with every sentence that comes out of her smiling mouth.

What's going on?

Then it's gone. The box disappears and her smile goes with it.

Her face is drained of any emotion.

The cheerful lilt in her voice is still ringing in my head as I stare back at her now lifeless face. The eyes that once shone with life are now glazed over.

I'm scared.

I turn to the side and head for a door. I push the image of her standing and staring into space from my mind and walk into the door.

I'm enveloped in the black again and a second later color comes back, this time as the green colors of outside. Little houses are scattered within the small clearing and I continue walking, though I don't know where I'm going.

I turn and I see another person standing off to the side, their back turned to me.

Are they like the woman?

I want to call out to them.

I want to ask my questions.

But I can't.


	7. Elite Four

The young boy sits on his porch and like always, he battles his carefully trained pokémon against his next opponent.

His jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration.

"This time for sure," he mumbles to himself. He watches intently as his opponent's HP drops painfully slow.

"Come on," he whispers.

It stops with a miniscule amount of HP left and the boy groans, letting his head drop.

"Please don't do it."

He sneaks a glance at the screen and pretends to throw the device across the street.

"Come _on_!" he cries out in frustration. "You already used a Full Restore! How am I supposed to beat you if you keep using them?"

Once the opponents HP is replenished a glint of determination sparks within the young boy's eyes.

"Okay, _this_ time for sure."

* * *

The small amount of green the opponent had drops slowly down.

This battle is taking longer than the others, even longer than the one inside the 'gyms'.

The green continues to drop until the color changes to red.

Good, let's get this over with.

Then it stops.

Great.

It's happened a few times for the last three battles and I don't think this time is an exception.

I sigh mentally as I just make out the words in the box above.

I really can't stand these things.

The other pokémon's bar slides quickly back up to green until it's like nothing ever happened.

Here we go again.

I groan mentally as the commander selects 'fight'.


	8. Become the Champion

It's a lazy summer day in a quaint little neighborhood. A young boy is sprawled out on his back on his bed, battling his carefully trained pokémon against the final test of the pokémon world. Just like any normal trainer would.

His eyes are glued to the screen as he bites his lower lip in concentration. The green health bar of the opponent's pokemon hits the zero mark and it cries out out one last time before disappearing from the screen.

He stares in disbelieve as the champion slides onto the screen as disbelieving as the young boy. Then a wide and goofy grin breaks out on the boy's face and he cheers happily.

"Yes! I beat him! Finally!" He rocks himself up into a sitting position then jumps up from his bed. "I am the champion, my friends!" the young boy stands with a hand to his chest, belting the song at the top of his lungs. He props his leg onto his bed and punches his fist into the air. "And I'll keep on fighting to the end!"

He suddenly takes his foot down and stands straight, adjusting an imaginary tie. "I'd like to take this time to answer any questions from the audience. Ah, yes, you sir." He points to an old stuffed dinosaur and nods his head while stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Great question, sir. And may I say that you have quite the fabulous tail there? Nice and spiky."

Before he can continue with his speech, someone knocks at his bedroom door. He jumps a bit and clears his throat before answering.

"Yeah?"

The door opens and his father leans partially into his room. He has a smile on his face and says, with a slightly raised eyebrow, "Are you still accepting questions or do I need to set up an appointment with your secretary or something?"

The young boy's cheeks heat up and he rolls his eyes. "Dad," he drawls. His father holds up his hands in mock defense and chuckles.

"Okay, okay. But, come on down to the living room. I have something I want to show you and your sister. I'd hurry before your sister comes up with a name all by herself," he says with a wink. With that, his father shuts the door behind him.

The boy's face lights up. "What is it?" he asks excitedly.

"Come downstairs!" his father replies before heading down the hallway.

The boy glances at his game which has returned to the main screen and starting sequence. He flicks the off switch and rushes over to the closet. He digs through everything until he finds his cardboard box.

"You'll be safe back here guys," he promises his team.

He sets the device underneath a picture of a funny looking woman and hides the box in the back of the closet. He pushes the rest of the stuff on top of it so he can shut the door.

"I'm coming down!" he shouts before sprinting for his bedroom door. He practically pulls it off of its hinges as he opens it and speeds for the stairs.

His door swings partially shut and his footsteps can be heard as they hurry down the stairs. His sudden and speedy arrival seems to excite something downstairs and it barks happily.

"Look! It's a puppy!" his sister can be heard explaining to her brother.

The boy's laughter can be heard from his room as the barks get louder. "No, you can't eat that! Hey get back here!"

The device sits tucked away safely as the siblings' steps fade into the distance, trying to catch the newest member of the family.

* * *

These battles were odd somehow.

It's not just the location of the battle or even how long they took.

Something about them feels odd.

I approach a machine and rack my brain for any explanation as to what is going on. I try to place this feeling in my stomach while the capsules holding the pokémon in my party appear on the machine.

This hasn't happened before.

The few battles not too long ago all seemed to blend together, one after the other, but I remember the trainers saying something before and after the commander fought them.

My mind was half asleep throughout the whole thing, even when I saw my rival standing on the podium. I thought it was just another surprise battle of his so, I let my mind haze over again, ready for all of the boring battling to end. He talked to me but, this time around I wasn't very inclined to listen let alone play along with his programmed conversation.

I probably should have though.

Maybe they were all actually saying something useful this time.

It isn't long before the color is sucked from the world and I'm in the blackness.

But it isn't a battle scene or a new room I'm standing in.

No, I'm watching something.

A pokémon appears in front of me, its moves and level displayed.

Are these the pokémon from my party?

What is this?

Each of the six pokémon appear one by one and cry out mechanically. This definitely hasn't happened before.

It's.

Different.

Wait.

Is this the end?

Is it finally over?

Is this the end of this programmed journey?

I watch in awe as words scroll by in front of me. They all blur together as my mind races with possibility upon possibility.

I wonder what will happen?

The familiar chill courses throughout my body.

But this time, a spark of hope ignites in me.

Maybe this time will be different.

Maybe the color will come back different.

Maybe I'll come back different.

I know the darkness is coming.

This time…

I'm not afraid.


	9. Just Like the Old Days

A teen sits on his living room couch.

Wires dangle from his ears as he bobs his head slightly. His hands clutch a controller and he moves the joystick this way and that, every now and then pressing some buttons.

Images flash from the television screen and it's the only thing his eyes are focused on. He takes one hand off of the controller and reaches for a bowl resting on the seat beside him. He brings the hand toward his mouth, now clutching a handful of popcorn.

On the other side of him lies a dog, his gaming buddy and best friend. The dog's ears perk up as it hears something. It looks up to the stairs and cocks it's head.

The boy's name is called from the top of the stairs but, the boy continues playing, unable to hear it.

The person calling him is now yelling his name and the dog barks from his seat on the couch. The teen glances at the dog and he finally presses a button, pausing the game.

He yanks the wires from his ears. "Did you say something?" he shouts, tilting his head back slightly.

Footsteps can be heard as someone descends the stairs. When they reach the bottom they take a few steps into the living room. The dog's tail wags but he remains seated next to the boy.

A young girl crosses her arms, trying to look intimidating to her older brother. "Mom said for _both _of us to clean our rooms."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it later," he says un-pausing the game. The young girl rolls her eyes.

"You always say that. Remember the last time you didn't clean your room when she asked?" She quirks and eyebrow and her brother pauses the game with a sigh.

"All I need is more chores on my plate," he mutters before setting the remote to the side. He gets up from the couch and the dog hops off with him. As he passes the young girl on his way to the stairs he ruffles her hair excessively. "Thanks, sis."

He smiles goofily and she bats his hand away with a laugh. He takes off up the stairs, the dog close behind, and she calls up from the bottom step. "You're lucky I'm nice!"

He waves his hand behind his head before disappearing into his room.

He shuts the door behind him and the dog and looks over his some-what messy room. Failed three-pointers lie around his laundry basket and trashcan, his bed was still unmade from this morning, and his closet looked like it had threw up his belongings on the floor from the search for his wallet last week.

"Shouldn't take too long," he says to the dog, rolling up his sleeves. The dog barks and trots over to a bed set up for it in the corner.

"Good idea. You take care of your corner and I'll get everything else."

The dog yawns and settles in for a nap.

"You're doing great so far," the teen remarks sarcastically before turning to the rest of his room.

He grabs all of the dirty clothes and stuffs them in the hamper, collects the wrappers and balled up papers and throws them away, and quickly adjusts his blanket and pillow.

"Now," he says rubbing his hands. "Time for the hard part." He stares intently at the pile of junk spilling from his closet.

"Get prepared for a good old fashioned clean up!"

He bends down at the knees and grabs as much stuff as his arm span will hold. Then he waddles over to his closet, clutching the pile tightly, and throws it in.

Before anything big can fall out he quickly starts to shut the door. A few things tumble out of the closet but he decides that he can just push that under the bed.

Finally, with a sharp click the closet door shuts and the teen boy heaves a sigh of relief. He gives a thumbs up to the dog who's watching lazily, on the brink of falling asleep. The teen bends down and picks up the things that didn't quite fit, preparing to shove them beneath the bed. His hand hovers over a small cardboard box and he stops.

"Wow, I forgot all about this," he murmurs to himself. He picks it up and sets the other things back on the floor. With box in hand, he sits on his bed.

Opening it up, he finds random things he deemed of the highest importance as a kid. He chuckles as his eyes fall upon a faded picture of a half-naked woman. He picks it up and notices something hidden beneath it. He sets the photo to the side and trades it for a device he'd thought was long lost.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. "It probably doesn't even work."

His finger finds the switch and the little device comes to life.

The screen lights up and the sequence he knows so well plays in front of his eyes.

When the main screen comes up he stares at the file with his name on it.

"So many memories," he whispers.

He clicks on the save file and, soon enough, that familiar little character is standing in their bedroom.

"Huh, that's funny. I guess I never played it after I beat the champion."

He presses the directional button and heads for the stairs to explore the world he had abandoned so long ago.

Everything is still the same.

Just like the old days.

* * *

The color's back.

What happened?

I can't quite place it but, I feel like this last darkness was quite a bit longer than the others. I don't know why, since the darkness is the only time I can't think, but I feel like it's been awhile.

I guess it doesn't really matter in the end though. It's not like I missed anything.

Wait, where am I?

This place looks really familiar.

Wait.

The bed.

The stuff that doesn't belong to me.

I'm back.

The starting point.

No.

Not again.

I head for the stairs.

Panic and horror races through me as the memories before this last darkness come flooding back.

I can't do this again.

I thought this was over?


	10. New Game

**Hey guys! I didn't really want to leave author notes for this story because I didn't want to mess with the flow (sorry if it did but, this is the official last chapter for this story and this is a good a time as any.**

**First I'd like to thank every one of you readers, followers, favoriters, and reviewers for supporting this story. I honestly was dubious as to how it would be taken and thought I would get flamed hardcore. But, I didn't and I thank you all immensely!**

**Secondly, after you've finished reading, I'd like it if you helped me decide on something. I've been thinking about maybe a sequel? It would be a bit different from this format but, I can't really explain without giving the ending away. So, review or PM me about your opinion on my writing a sort of sequel to this! I'd really appreciate it!**

**But, for now, enjoy the grande finale of The Save File is OK!**

* * *

The leaves are painted hues of red, orange, and brown in a chilly autumn day in a quaint neighborhood. A leaf breaks from its branch and floats gently down to the ground until a gust of wind picks it up.

It flies above the crinkled leaves below it and settles just outside of a high window of a quaint house. Inside the window, boxes are stacked atop each other in a room that is almost barren of any belongings.

A young man lies with his back on his bed, stroking the head of an old dog sleeping beside him. After a moment the dog yawns before it slowly pulls itself up, the young man's hand slipping onto the bed.

"Nature calls, huh?" the young man jokes glancing at the dog.

With a soft sneeze it walks to the side of the bed and jumps deftly onto the floor, barely making a sound. It slowly walks over to the open door and slinks down the hallway to the stairs.

Once the clinking of the dog's tags fade away, the young man looks around at his room and sighs.

Posters of his favorite movies that used to line the wall are rolled up and packed away, clothes that would often not make the hamper were cleaned and tucked into a suitcase, and his desk was wiped clear except for his cell-phone that lay charging in the wall.

Everything is all neatly packed, his bed being the only exception. Even that will be stripped of its sheets the next day, though.

A thought seems to occur to him and he bolts up from his bed and heads over to his closet.

A layer of junk he doesn't need and didn't bother to sort through lies at the bottom. He pushes it all to the side and his expression softens when his eyes rest upon a small cardboard box. Carefully, he removes it from underneath everything and sits back on the floor, holding the box in his lap.

"Can't believe I almost forgot about this," he whispers opening the box. Inside is everything that he thought was cool and a great collectable as a kid. He picks out things one at a time, reminiscing about the time when he put each item into the box.

Finally, he reaches the thing that was the most important item. A small device that was set beside an even smaller cartridge. It's worn but only from use, not from neglect to take care of it.

He smiles sadly, thinking about what he is about to do.

He stands up and leaves his room, heading for the one just down the hallway.

"Hey, sis," he says as he knocks on his sister's door-frame. She sits at her desk, writing in a notebook, and turns to her older brother.

"What?"

"What are you doing?" he asks casually.

The teen girl taps her notebook with the end of her pencil. "Homework."

"Jeez, don't you have any fun?" he jokes.

"Not when I have an essay due next week," she counters.

"Wow, you're teacher must hate your class. Weren't you working on an essay just last week?"

It's silent for a moment as she shifts in her seat. "Yeah, this is the one."

"What one?"

She doesn't answer and her brother's eyes widen in surprise as he realizes what she means.

"_This_ is the same essay? That essay from last week had almost six pages!"

"I want to work on it some more, okay? Can't a girl write in peace and _solitude_?"

"You got it," he says with a snap of his fingers. She's about to thank him for leaving when he quickly adds, "You won't even know I'm here!"

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her essay.

As she writes, her brother strolls around her room. He picks up a textbook and leafs noisily through the pages before slamming it shut. He moves over to her bed and grabs her pillow, fluffing it violently and punching it into shape. His sister cringes and finally whips back around as he's about to pick up her trashcan.

"Can I help you with something or did you just come in here to annoy me?"

Setting down the trashcan, he raises his hands up in defense. He notices an old doll sitting on a shelf beside him and he grabs it, holding it in front of his face.

"Don't be such a meanie to your brother, now," he chastises with a high-pitched voice. The girl rolls her eyes again and turns back to her work.

"You're impossible," she murmurs.

"And you're no fun," he counters, returning to his normal voice. Setting the doll on the shelf he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something. "That's why I'm bringing the fun _to _you."

He walks over to her desk and sets a worn device next to her.

"_That's_ why you came in here? To give me an old toy?"

"It's not an old toy!"

She laughs off what she assumes is her brother's take on a joke. "Thanks, but no thanks." She pushes the device away from her and turns back to her notebook again.

"This so called _toy_ was the most fun thing in the whole world when I was a kid, and it still is!"

"Then why don't you just take it to college with you?"

A silence hangs in the air. She didn't mean this in a hurtful way but her brother doesn't respond and she feels like she should take it back somehow. She runs through her head about what to say when she hears her bed springs squeak as he sits. She looks at him and he stares at the floor, seeming to be chewing his words before saying them.

"Because when I leave," he starts, twiddling his thumbs, "I want to be sure you don't work yourself to death. I want you to be a kid for as long as you can and leave the twenty page essays to me," he says with a small chuckle. She rolls her eyes with a slight smile and he clasps his hands together and looks off into the distance.

"You're not a kid forever, you know. And you may say that you're a teenager and that your mature and all that but, you've still got some childhood memories ahead of you. This right here gave me some of my best memories. From when I first got it to when I finally finished my game."

Her eyes fall on the little device as she listens.

He laughs a bit awkwardly and runs a hand through his hair. "I remember this one time," he says and looks up at the ceiling as if the memory was playing on a screen up there. "I was trying to play my game and you came up and started bugging me about it. I remember you wanted to play it but, I said no. You started crying, making me feel bad, so I showed you how to play it. It was the funniest thing watching you try to figure out the controls."

The girl smiles and looks down at her lap.

Her brother continues, glancing at his sister now and then. "You probably don't remember it but, that memory has stuck with me out of all the memories I have with this game." He pauses and turns to look right at his sister. "And now that I think about it, most of those memories have you in it."

Her face has softened and she stares at her hands in her lap. He chuckles and clears his throat, standing up to leave.

"Well, I want you to have it. Start a new game on it, I already beat it and I probably won't have time for it in college anyway," he says with a wave of his hand. The girl nods and clears her throat as well.

"Yeah," she agrees.

She considers if she can get back into her flow of writing again when, just before he's about to leave, the young man stops and turns back around. "Oh, I forgot something." He walks back over to her and places his hand on the desk. She glances over at his hand and when he pulls it back there is a small cartridge in its place.

"Wouldn't be any fun without this." He takes a few steps back before turning around and walking out the door.

She stares at the two things that she can just barely remember seeing her brother play with as a boy. She smiles at the faded memories and turns quickly to the door, calling out her brother's name. He's back in moments with an eyebrow raised in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He smiles and winks. "No problem."

She nods absentmindedly as he walks back out the door.

"You'd be surprised what a simple game can do to a person," she hears him say from the hallway.

She sits motionless for a moment before grabbing her pencil and poising it above her paper, ready to write. She pauses in this position though, mulling over in her mind the last words her brother had said.

After a short hesitation she puts her pencil down and picks up the device. She looks it over curiously before picking up the cartridge her brother left with it.

"Can't hurt to try it," she murmurs, inserting the cartridge. She flicks the on switch and the screen comes to life before her eyes. A faded memory of the opening music comes to mind and she laughs to herself.

"Oh, I remember this, now."

The starting sequence plays out and she watches through the whole thing with a smile.

Finally, the menu comes up and she stares at her brother's name under the save file. Underneath, the option of starting a new game is given.

The girl stares at the game for a long while wondering if she really wants to overwrite his profile. She considers asking him if he was sure he wants her to start a new game when a thought occurs to her.

She knows for a fact that he's bringing his other game system with him to college, yet he had said he wouldn't have time to play this old one. Surely, this little game would take up less time than the system.

Then, she remembers her brother's speech and the faraway look he had in his eyes.

"Childhood memories, huh?"

She rolls her eyes at her brother's corniness.

"Gotta love that sentimentalist."

With the push of a button, she selects 'new game' and reads through the opening greeting, a slight smile still written on her face.

* * *

There's no color.

But I can think.

Am I in the blackness?

How can I be in the blackness when I don't remember coming back from the darkness?

There's no battle scene, no evolution scene, nothing.

It's just dark.

My mind starts to buzz with possibilities of what could be happening when, suddenly, the color begins to slowly take form around me.

I can see that I'm standing on a route, the unchanging trees lining on one side of me with the repetitive waves flanking the other side. Before I know it, the whole route has materialized in front of me except for a large square section, not far off ahead of me.

It's as if a line was drawn just feet away from where I am standing, running all the way to my left and my right, and everything on the opposite side of the line was just cut off and replaced with black.

I can even see some trees missing one side, cut cleanly down the middle.

This has never happened before.

Never.

There must be something wrong.

My heart races and I wish I could run but, my feet are planted to the spot as always.

Is the guider seeing this?

Shouldn't they guide me away from whatever is right here?

My mind stops abruptly when something appears in the black abyss.

A box.

But it isn't the box with words in it.

No, it kind of reminds me of when I'm watching a battle scene.

But there isn't a pokémon in sight.

Inside the scene, there stands a person.

A girl.

In a room.

With a bed.

And belongings.

That's my starting point.

I've never seen her before.

Why is she at my starting point?

I watch with a jumble of mixed emotions as I watch her walk to the stairs.

No.

Don't go down there.

I try to move.

I try to talk.

She needs my help.

I can't let anybody else go through this.

The girl appears downstairs and the horrible memory pushes into the front of my mind.

Don't interact with that woman.

But she has no choice.

She's being guided.

Just like me.

And I can't do anything to stop it.

This is the last thing I wanted.

The boxes appear and the words scroll within it. I can't see the woman's mouth move but I know she's talking. And that person's going to be forced to watch what has haunted me throughout this whole programmed journey.

The box disappears and my heart pines to console her because I know what she must be feeling.

The confusion.

The fear.

The loneliness.

She turns toward the door and the screen disappears within the blackness for a moment before the color comes back.

She stands outside of the house and takes a few steps around before a box appears displaying options. This is the first time I've actually seen a box full on.

My head swirls as the selector shifts through the words, finally resting on the word 'save'.

What's a save?

That one word is selected and the box disappears. Right after another box takes its place along with a smaller option box. An option is selected and, as soon as it is, everything around me flickers an array of different colors before flickering back to normal.

What was that?

I turn my attention back to the scene and I see a new box has replaced the last one.

One word is displayed.

Warning.

Before I can begin to wonder what it means, it's gone and replaced with several other boxes in quick succession, I can't even read what's scrolling in the box.

The last box appears and another option is given.

What's going to happen?

What was that 'warning' for?

When an option is selected, everything that was moving inside the scene stops.

Is that a freeze?

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the color in my world flickers violently.

I'm rendered thoughtless as I feel the ground beneath me start to warp.

The trees seem to have a mind of their own as they distort into shapes that trees shouldn't be.

The music that has been in the background since the beginning stops suddenly and I stare in silence and horror as the world around me crumbles.

For once, I'm terrified.

Completely terrified.

I have never felt fear like this.

I don't know what to do.

I can feel myself flickering and my heart and mind race even faster as I feel on the brink of a mental breakdown.

Everything around me continues to deteriorate until, as sudden as it started, it stops.

I can't even begin to process what is happening.

Everything around me is slowly breaking apart into millions of tiny squares as they slowly start to rise up and above me, out of my line of vision.

I can feel a tingling sensation all over me as hundreds of my own tiny squares rise in front of my face. They're all different colors and I watch them float straight up and above me.

I can't even think.

This is too much.

I feel like my head is about to explode when my mind suddenly halts and settles on one hard fact.

It doesn't hurt.

Whatever this is.

Whatever is happening right now.

If this is how it all ends.

It doesn't hurt.

I slowly wind down my mind and repeat this in my head.

It doesn't hurt.

The squares continue to rise up and up. I calmly allow my vision to glaze over, blurring everything around me.

It doesn't hurt.

A haze of the colored squares rise up and I take in a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

It doesn't hurt.

My eyes flutter shut.

It doesn't hurt.

My knees buckle underneath me and I kneel to the ground in slow motion, as if I'm floating in water.

It doesn't hurt.

Something warm and rough greets my cheek as my mind succumbs to the darkness...

One last time.

And it doesn't hurt.


	11. Sequel Announcement

**Hey, so I know this says complete but, I thought I should mention that I am ****_indeed_**** working on a sequel. Now, keep in mind, I kept this story as vague as I could to let people imagine what they wanted.**

**But, the sequel kind of requires me to reveal who the character is and I added that character selection thingy to the story summary thing after this was finished to give any future readers a hint so I don't have to explain it all over again.**

**So, yeah. The sequel will be completely different from this one. Like, completely. It's basically going to be an actual regular formatted story instead of having the short lines and split paragraphs that this one has. And it that requires descriptions, thus making the reveal of the character identity unavoidable.**

**Anyway, I'm thinking that the first chapter will maybe be up sometime this month if everything falls into place and goes according to plan.**

**And if you for some reason don't want to know who this story was based off of I understand but, I'm going to continue with the sequel regardless because I've got an interesting plot laid out I think.**

**I hope you'll join me in the sequel!**

**~EclecticLion**


End file.
